


Exit Wounds

by the_genderman



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: But he is trying to be more thoughtful and less cruel to Hux, Exes to Lovers, Exile Kylux, Feelings, Humor, M/M, Reconciliation, Soft Kylux, Unredeemed Kylo Ren, brief mention of suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: Exile isn’t going to be glamorous and Kylo Ren has a chaotic streak a parsec wide. Hux knows this, but somehow he still isn’t prepared. Humor, fluff, and some surprisingly soft Feels.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	Exit Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> I promise the fic is nicer than the title may make it sound.
> 
> I’m absolutely making up the background for Han’s parents. I know I _did_ watch Solo, in the theater even, but honestly I don’t remember a whole lot about it, and I also know how I want this fic to happen, so.  
> Also, this fic started out with the full intention of being strictly fluff and humor and then it developed Feelings, so I ran with it.

Hux tried but failed to hide the shock and disgust on his face as Kylo finished getting the generator running again and enough power flowing through the property to open the door to the “trust me, they’ll never find us here” cabin. True, it was a small cabin in a remote location on a small moon of a remote planet in a remote section of the Outer Rim, but _really_. It was a mess. It couldn’t possibly have been inhabited since at least the fall of the Empire, there was simply too much dirt. One of the windows near the back of the front room had been broken, clearly years ago, allowing dirt and leaves to blow in. And without a doubt, local wildlife as well.

“What do you think?” Kylo asked, looking expectantly at Hux. 

Hux wasn’t sure _what_ the scavenger girl had done to Kylo. Between the time Hux had ‘died’ and when Kylo had ‘died’—for the second time, not the time that _she_ killed him, it was all kind of confusing—it seemed she’d somehow managed to improve his temper a touch. Which was a feat in itself and slightly unnerving, even if it could ostensibly be called a good thing. Hux wasn’t entirely sure what he thought about that, wasn’t sure if it was a permanent effect. It made him uncomfortable, but as long as Kylo was his ticket to staying alive, then he probably ought to try to stay on his good side, whatever that might be.

“It’s…” Hux said, drawing out the word, trying to find something complimentary he could say about the location. He tapped his cane on the doorstep, hesitating a moment, then took a breath and stepped inside. “…Got potential.”

“Yeah, I guess it does need a little work,” Kylo said, looking around and closing the door behind them. “But this won’t be permanent, don’t worry. Only long enough for things to die down enough for us to get some credits and a new ship and start planning for the future.”

“And how are we supposed to get credits from out here?” Hux asked, trying to be positive about this. He stepped gingerly through the dirt and leaf mould covering what might have once been a nice carpet. He didn’t suppose there were any housekeeping droids out here…

“Oh, this place belonged to my grandfather,” Kylo said entirely too cheerily. “There ought to be plenty of things we can sell off.”

Hux paused. Or, more correctly, _froze_. Was this some kind of _joke_? Was this why Kylo was being nice to him? Playing with him like Millicent used to do when she would find a rodent on the ship? Put him off his guard and then hit him with this or something even worse? Hux knew Imperial history. There was simply no way in any of the Sith hells that Darth Vader, or Anakin Skywalker before his descent into the Dark, would have owned property in this part of the galaxy. Jedi weren’t supposed to have ‘possessions’ like this, and Vader would have had no use for this cabin when he had a castle on Mustafar.

“Ah. Yeah. Sorry. Other side of the family,” Kylo said, giving a self-deprecating laugh.

“Oh. Right,” Hux said awkwardly, having forgotten that yes, Kylo did have family other than Vader. He moved slowly around the room, observing both the debris and the bones of the room beneath it. Keeping a covert eye on Kylo as he did. Remove the filth and it wasn’t a bad little place, he supposed. “Um. Yes. Your father was a smuggler, wasn’t he? And, uh, your grandfather, too?”

“He preferred the term ‘collector’,” Kylo said, opening a narrow door, poking through the closet’s contents, before finally pulling out a broom. He frowned and began attempting to sweep up the leaves. “Sometimes, when I was a kid, before… before I joined the Jedi temple, my family would come here for vacations. My father never took to politics, and sometimes he’d even manage to convince my mother to come along.”

“When exactly was the last time you visited?” Hux asked, using the head of his cane to cautiously pick up the shed skin of some entirely too large variety of snake from the floor. He held it up, hand above his head, tail of the shed still resting on the floor.

Kylo turned, recognizing Hux’s ‘ _I am skeptical of what you’re telling me_ ’ tone of voice. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the snakeskin. “Ah, that’s a nice one. Almost entirely intact, can’t be too old… Oh. Right. I’ll get that window boarded up and check if there’s anything alive in here other than us. But to answer your question, it’s been a while. I want to say I was… seven? But I would have thought my father would have used this place on occasion, it’s too good of a hideout to pass up.”

“If he had, it certainly wasn’t recent,” Hux said, walking over to the couch and beginning a carefully distanced examination of it. He wanted to sit down—it was still recommended that he keep weight off his leg as much as possible for the next couple weeks to allow it to heal up properly—but he also wanted to be sure the owner of the snakeskin wasn’t currently residing somewhere inside the couch. He poked one cushion with his cane and watched as the impact sent up a little plume of dust. But, no snake, at least. He poked the other cushions, and, satisfied he wasn’t going to be bitten, gave a shudder of revulsion at the dirt and sat down.

“Well,” Hux said, getting as comfortable as he could on the dusty old couch and watching curiously as Kylo continued sweeping the room. “Tell me more about your plan. I assume you do actually have one, and you’re not just flying by the seat of your pants once again?”

“Yes, I have a plan!” Kylo snapped. Catching himself, he took a breath and began again, more calmly. “Yes. I have a plan. It’s… not much, but I do have something. There’s not a lot on this moon except forest, but like I said, my grandfather used this place as one of his hideaways. There should be plenty of old collectables stashed away, we’ll just have to find the right buyers. And he always kept at least one ship hidden within a couple days walk of the cabin, just in case. It’ll be an older ship, but they were always in good condition. I liked coming to see them when we visited. I’d always wanted to be a pilot since I could remember, so my father would take me out to look for grandpa’s ships. Sometimes we’d find one, sometimes we wouldn’t.”

“And you’re sure you can find one to get us off of here again?” Hux said, needing answers, but trying not to sound too hostile.

“Yeah, of course,” Kylo replied, still sweeping, but not making much of a dent in the overall cleanliness of the room. “And if not, then we can at least stay here long enough for me to modify the ship we came on so it won’t immediately match records. There should be plenty of food, as long as you don’t mind canned stuff, MREs, and ration bars.” He laughed.

Hux frowned, sitting and considering. If he ignored the fact that Kylo had almost certainly just made a _joke_ —since having declared himself Supreme Leader, Kylo hadn’t made _anything_ that could resemble a joke—about his dietary habits, it certainly was a plan. It might rely significantly on luck, but it was currently more than he had. _His_ plan had been obliterated with the resistance victory, and it had only been sheer luck that Kylo had found him before they had. If they’d picked him up first, they would have quickly learned that he hadn’t been so much a traitor to the First Order as a triple agent, and that wouldn’t have ended well for him. Kylo might be acting a bit strangely, but at least he still trusted Hux. Despite every rough patch they had been through in the past year, he still trusted him. Hux couldn’t quite say the same, but he didn’t exactly have options.

“Maybe you should consider boarding up the window before continuing to sweep,” Hux said as a gust of wind rattled the broken glass and brought in another few leaves. “While you do that, I’ll see what I can find for a meal. I don’t suppose there’s any caf?” He preferred tea over caf, but he couldn’t quite picture Kylo’s father, just from what he had heard of him, as a tea drinker. And besides, the tea leaves would have aged terribly after this many years. Caf was slightly more forgiving if vacuum sealed.

Kylo shrugged, putting the broom back in the closet. “If there is, it’ll be in the pantry. Kitchen’s through there,” he said, pointing. “I’m going to go find a board and some tools, take care of the window, then check if any of the rest of them need my attention, too.”

“Good idea,” Hux said, getting to his feet again. He started off toward the kitchen. Well, as long as there were ration bars, he’d be fine. He _could_ cook—he’d been trained in a number of basic skills in the Academy—but it had been a while since he’d had to do so, and he much preferred to follow a recipe. He wondered if Kylo’s grandfather had been the type to keep recipebooks around to cook from or if he simply threw things in a pan and declared it a meal. He feared he had probably been the second type.

Ah, this must be the pantry, Hux thought, passing the sink and stove and other slightly grimy, disused kitchen appliances, and coming to a stop at the rear of the kitchen and a set of doors. He pressed the button to open them and wondered what he would find inside. The doors juddered open, revealing a decent-sized room, lined with shelves and stocked with cans and boxes. Enough food to hole up for months, if necessary. Hux stepped inside and began scanning over the inventory. 

Hux glanced at the first set of shelves on the left and wrinkled his nose. Crackers. Cereal. More cereal. Dried fruit. Yet more cereal. Packaged noodles. Things with extended shelf-lives, but which were also not meant for multiple years’ long storage. The last time this cabin had been stocked, it appeared the residents had planned to return. He briefly wondered what had stopped them—the war? Well, stale crackers could certainly be eaten, but they would not be particularly palatable. He moved on.

The second and third shelves held unopened multipack boxes that mostly seemed to contain standard long-life military ration bars. The packaging was dusty and dated, but that was to be expected. He tipped one box back to check the eat-by date printed on the bottom. Hm. Expiration was a few years out yet, that was good for them. The shelf at the very back of the pantry was empty, possibly meant for perishables. The rear two shelves on the right contained vacuum-sealed “just add water” MREs. In Hux’s experience, they had shorter best-by shelf-lives than the ration bars, but they certainly did help liven up an otherwise uniform regime of nutritionally complete rectangles.

Circling back to the first shelf on the right brought Hux to the canned goods. Canned goods were stamped with best-by dates, but— _theoretically_ —he knew they could keep almost indefinitely as long as they weren’t growing botulism. He didn’t see any caf, but perhaps he’d find some canned fruit to go along with their MREs. Being alive right now, even in exile, even on the run, even at the end and the beginning of everything they had known together, felt like something to be celebrated. Kylo liked jogan fruit, right? Might not hurt to subtly bribe him a little. Hux nudged the cans aside, poking through and checking their faded labels for jogan fruit.

Crouching awkwardly down to check the lowest shelf, Hux cursed as he banged his knee against the support pole, jostling his injured leg and knocking a couple cans onto the floor where they rolled around theatrically. He cursed again and grabbed for the first one to put it back on the shelf. Ten bean soup. Not what he was looking for. Using his cane as a hook, Hux dragged the second escapee can back to him. He was about to tuck it back away when he noticed the date stamped onto the top of the can. That couldn’t _possibly_ be right. Even if this place hadn’t been inhabited in the last twenty-three years, these would still have been expired well before then. Well, he supposed it could help explain Kylo’s disregard for rules, regulations, and any proper sense of being on time to meetings if all of his relatives did things like this. Jogan fruit forgotten, Hux pushed himself back up onto his feet, still holding the offending can. He added a couple just-add-water MREs and limped back out of the pantry to try to find Kylo.

Hux nearly collided with Kylo in the kitchen doorway. He stumbled back and Kylo reached out to catch him.

“You ok?” Kylo asked, steadying Hux. “Oh, picked out some food? Lemme wipe down the table and we can eat. What did you get?”

“Uh,” Hux said, actually looking at the labels on the packages he’d grabbed. “Nerf stroganoff and tip-yip tetrazzini, it appears.”

“Oh, the stroganoff’s pretty good for an MRE,” Kylo said, raising his voice a little to speak over the sink as it sputtered to life. He let it run, letting the water circulate and the sanitizer kick in, leaning against the counter to talk to Hux. “I liked that one a lot as a kid. My mother was always a little disappointed that I preferred eating MREs when we came here, but to be fair, she wasn’t a great cook; she’d always had droids to do that for her. My father was _technically_ a better cook than she was, but he also tended to go off-recipe and then we ended up with things like sugar-glazed moof casserole. I cannot recommend that less. What else do you have there?”

Hux looked down at the can in his hand, then back up at Kylo, who had his hand out expectantly. He handed it over wordlessly.

“Ertegan olives,” Kylo nodded, tossing the can in the air and catching it. “Chop these up and mix ‘em into the tetrazzini, yeah, that should liven it up. Good choice.”

“Kylo, look at the date on the can,” Hux stuttered, finding his voice again. “Those expired _five years before I was even born_.”

“Yeah, they’ll be fine,” Kylo shrugged. “If you want, I’ll let you have the stroganoff and I’ll do the tetrazzini with olives.”

Hux blinked as Kylo briefly considered his lightsaber, then busied himself looking for a can opener for the olives. Well, at least Kylo’s proclivity for eating questionable things hadn’t changed. That was one fixed point in this whole, weird ordeal.

\-----

Dinner passed without fanfare. The nerf stroganoff was exactly what Hux expected from an MRE, but he did have to admit that it didn’t have the weird aftertaste he had come to associate with most nerf-based MREs. Kylo explained that he’d given the rest of the cabin a quick check and that he didn’t sense anything alive in it other than them and a few bugs, but it was nearly impossible to keep bugs out completely. No snake, and especially not one large enough to have left that shed. It had probably come in here for a safe place to molt and then moved on. He’d gotten the window boarded up, so nothing else would come in, and the rest of the windows were intact. The upstairs was dusty, a bit cobwebby, but the refresher worked. There were spare clothes in the closets, the styles outdated, but they’d at least have options to change into. Might be a bit loose on Hux, but they’d be tall enough, at least. There was a tiny washer and dryer for clothes or bedsheets. The shower was a sonic—the cabin didn’t have much in the way of a water heater—but it was functional.

Nodding along as Kylo talked, Hux realized he _was_ awfully tired. The sun was setting, it had been a very long week, and he was still trying to come to terms with everything that had happened. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

The warmth of Kylo’s hand on his brought Hux blinking back to consciousness. “Tired?” he asked softly.

Hux nodded.

“Alright. You wait here and I’ll get the bedrooms livable,” Kylo said, standing up and pushing his chair back under the table. He hesitated. “Do you want, um, separate rooms, or…?”

Hux pursed his lips. _That_ was a good question. Probably also a loaded one. He paused, trying to figure out the best way to answer. The answer that would upset Kylo the least.

“… Yeah, I get it,” Kylo answered himself after the silence had become too overwhelming. “You can have the master bedroom, I’ll take the guest room.”

Or, it would work itself out. Hux watched carefully as Kylo rose from the table, maybe a bit frustrated, but in no danger of an imminent tantrum for being denied what he clearly wanted. Hux still wasn’t sure what to make of the change in Kylo’s temper. There were definitely moments where his anger would rise to the surface and Hux would flinch and wonder, but for the most part, Kylo had been oddly _nice_. True, it felt like it was exactly as foreign to him as it was to Hux, but still he did it. The longer they spent together, isolated here and forced into close proximity, the weirder it would get, Hux was certain. He only hoped it wouldn’t come to violence when the inevitable arguments began. He sat, chin braced in his hand, elbow on the table, and tried not to think too hard about what the future might bring.

\----------

Hux sat on the edge, tired but still not quite ready to sleep, trying to get used to the feeling of wearing someone else’s pajamas. He’d turned off all but one bedside lamp, hoping to convince Kylo that he had turned in for the night. Somewhere inside him, he knew that was probably futile; Kylo was probably watching him through the Force, or however he kept tabs on him, but he could still pretend. The sun had been down for a few hours and it was quite dark. Ships and cities were almost permanently lit; this darkness, though completely natural, unnerved Hux a little. Perhaps because it _was_ a natural dark. Well, there would still be stars, even in this darkness. He braced his hand against the bedside table and pushed himself to his feet so he could walk over to the window and look at the stars.

The table gave a little groan of protest, having lain untouched for so long, but also a sound like something rolling around inside it. Hux paused, frowning. He hadn’t opened any of the drawers or closets, feeling like it wasn’t his place to do so. He was an interloper here; a guest, if he was feeling generous. He had let Kylo poke around to find him clothes and bedding and then wash them. Curiosity, however, might just be getting the best of him. He opened the table’s little drawer slowly as if expecting its contents to leap out at him. 

Nothing did. There was nothing alive inside, only a couple sheets of ancient, yellowed flimsi, a pen, and a glass sphere about half the size of his fist. It sparkled in the dim light, and Hux picked it up cautiously to examine it. It appeared to be the representation of a planet; he wasn’t sure which one, other than not the one this moon was orbiting. Curious. Blue oceans sparkled around green and gold marbled land masses, and silvery clouds moved across the surface of the sphere. As the clouds swirled, forming and dissipating, he saw something thin and dark underneath them, unlike any land- or waterform he was familiar with. Writing? He peered closer. It appeared to be Aurebesh script, but hand-written before it had been permanently engraved into the little globe: “ _I don’t want the world, I just want your half_.”

Hux abruptly shoved the glass planet back into the drawer, slammed it closed, and practically flung himself into bed, fumbling for the light switch. Stars forgotten, driven from his mind by ten simple words, he pulled the blanket up over his head and let himself be enveloped in its slightly musty warmth. He could handle the crushing defeat of the First Order and everything he had worked for. He could handle the uncertainty of exile. He could handle Kylo, even behaving as oddly as he was. He might even be able to handle all of those and more, piled on top of each other, but _this_? The straw that broke the bantha’s back. _Feelings_. He wished he had never found that globe, never seen the words written across its face. Wished he’d never had the feelings in the first place for those words to catch and tangle on, to pull them out from the place deep inside him where he’d hidden them away.

All Hux had ever wanted was to be good enough. To have people look at him and see what he was capable of, to appreciate him and his accomplishments. For everyone to _know_ who he was and what he was capable of. He wanted the world, he wanted the _galaxy_ , and he wanted everyone in it to know who he was. And then he had met Kylo Ren. Co-commander. Rival. Lover. Tormentor. Superior. Savior? Captor? What _were_ they? He met Kylo. He hated him for his temper, for his childishness. He loved him for his intelligence and his capability and the fact that he had _appreciated_ him. Together, they could do anything. He had wanted the whole galaxy, but he would have been satisfied with whatever part of it he and Kylo could carve out for themselves. Together. “ _I don’t want the world, I just want your half_.” It was too much, too close, too much of a coincidence. Hux didn’t believe in fate, but it felt like something in this vast galaxy was taunting him. He squeezed his eyes shut and begged sleep to overtake him and drive the words from his mind.

\----------

“Did you sleep well?” Kylo asked over their breakfast. Hux was having rehydrated juice powder and some variety of egg-based MRE. Kylo, true to form, was having extraordinarily stale cereal—the kind with marshmallow bits that came already-stale—dry, because the canned milk powder had separated distressingly when reconstituted and Hux had poured it down the drain before Kylo could declare it drinkable.

Hux blinked up at Kylo, tempted to snipe back at him: _No, I didn’t. I was too busy being consumed by the pain of what I thought we had and what I lost, all because I saw a few silly words on a stupid glass orb your grandfather or someone else left lying around in a drawer I should never have opened in the first place_. He shrugged instead.

“Yeah, it is always a little weird sleeping in an unfamiliar place for the first time,” Kylo said around bites of his breakfast. “What would you like to do today? Keep cleaning, look for things we can sell for credits, or try to locate a clean ship?”

“I don’t know,” Hux mused. “I don’t really want to stay here any longer than necessary, but if we find anything worth selling, then we probably ought to have a clean place to put them—and to clean _them_.”

“Don’t want to stay here? What’s wrong with it?” Kylo asked, a note of hurt in his voice.

“Well, it’s dirty, for starters,” Hux said, stifling a yawn.

“That can be fixed.”

“It’s too quiet.”

“I could sing.”

“ _Kriff_ , please don’t.”

“What’s really bothering you?” Kylo asked, tilting his head and peering across the table at Hux.

“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble figuring it out, the same way you always do,” Hux snapped.

“Wow, ok, you really didn’t sleep well,” Kylo said, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of concession. “And yeah, I could, but do you really want me just poking around in your head without asking?”

“Never stopped you before,” Hux muttered. Maybe he’d pay for his sour mood, but he found it difficult to stop his words now that they’d started.

Kylo frowned. Hux squinted and tensed, bracing himself for the retaliation. He knew that look.

When nothing came, he slowly lowered his shoulders, blinking suspiciously.

After another couple breaths of silence, Kylo spoke again. “I really have been an asshole to you, haven’t I? You’ve been on edge this whole time, never really relaxing. I thought it was because you were worried about us being followed or discovered, or even just the dirt, but that’s not it, is it? It’s me.”

Hux found himself speechless again, mouth hanging agape. Was this just another manipulation? He couldn’t understand what Kylo could possibly stand to gain from flattering him _now_.

“What are you doing, Kylo?” Hux sighed angrily, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. “And don’t play with me, saying things like ‘what am I doing?’ or ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I know you’re not stupid. If you have _any_ respect left for me, be honest.”

“Of course I—” Kylo said, cutting himself off. He took a breath, steadying himself. “You’re right. I haven’t exactly shown it, not for a long time. I’m trying to make up for that. I know you might not trust me yet, but I have to start somewhere.”

“And what brought on this change of heart?” Hux laughed. “Deathbed repentance? Has the _Light_ gotten a hold on you? Did the girl turn you like she swore she would? She killed you and brought you back into the Light, is that it? You’ve gone to the Light and you’ve brought me here as your prisoner? As an offering to the resistance?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Kylo said, nearly shouting, the intensity Hux was used to returning to his face and voice and body. He leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the table. “I’m never going back to them, they have nothing for me! You think I want to go back? To live the life they’d always had planned for me, to be their _pet_ with no say of my own? No! The girl did not turn me! I…” he paused again, bringing his voice back down to a calmer tone. “If I’m being honest, I think she did _something_ to me, I don’t know what, but she did not _turn_ me. I’m doing this… for us. For what we had. I screwed up. I lost sight of what was important. I got distracted. Snoke said she was important to our goals. I thought I could turn the girl, thought I could use her to bring an end to the resistance faster, so I turned my focus to her. I knew she was strong in the Force, I should have realized she would never turn, but I was too stubborn. I didn’t want to believe I was wrong, so I didn’t listen to you when you said we had more important things than her.

“And I took you for granted,” Kylo said, his voice now almost painfully gentle. Hux closed his eyes and bowed his head. Kylo continued. “I thought you’d always be with me, no matter what. No matter what I did. Because we were meant for each other. Because the Force had brought us together, I thought I didn’t have to work to _keep_ us together. We’d accomplished so much together, why should going after the girl change any of that? I didn’t think about what I was doing to you. I hurt you because I lost myself to myopia. I thought, no matter what I did, if it all worked out in the end, I would still have you. I could give you the galaxy. But I hurt you, I lost you, I lost myself, and I lost everything we had built together. I want to try again, if you’ll allow it. The Force spat me back out and it let me find you again. It gave me a second chance. If I can keep from losing you this time, maybe I can find myself again, too. I’d give you the world if I could. You’ve always been my other half, even if I was too short-sighted to see it. I want to try again.”

_World_.

_Half_.

Hux found himself yanked violently back into his self-loathing of the night before just by the power of those words. He jolted back upright, eyes opening. It was too much. Kylo’s emotions were too strong, they had to be affecting him, too.

“ _I don’t want the world, I just want your half_ ,” he mumbled before he could stop himself.

“What did you say?” Kylo asked, his voice intense though barely louder than a whisper. He looked stunned, like someone had knocked the breath out of him.

“I don’t want the world, I just want your half,” Hux repeated, louder, studying Kylo’s face. If there was one positive coming out of this mess right now, it was that Kylo had never learned to school his face when he was in high emotion. Hux didn’t think he was lying. He might be confused, might not understand everything that had happened to himself, but he wasn’t lying.

“I found that written on a small planetary model in my room last night,” Hux continued. “What does it mean?”

“My grandparents used to say that to each other all the time,” Kylo said, slouching down in his chair, hands still gripping the edge of the table, but much more loosely. “I think it was their way of saying ‘I love you.’ That no matter what they were offered, all they wanted was their other half. The last time I heard it, I was nine. It was my grandfather’s funeral. I was pretty young, but it stuck with me. That she’d say it to him, even in death.”

“I… understand the sentiment,” Hux admitted. “I wanted the galaxy, but I wanted it with you at my side. And if I couldn’t have that, then I wanted whatever you and I could have together. Because, before… Before the girl came between us, you understood me. And that was all I’d ever truly wanted. Someone to _see_ me and know what I’m capable of and to stand with me as I did it. When I lost Starkiller, my first, despairing thought was that I wanted to let it take me with it. If my greatest accomplishment was going to be destroyed, I didn’t want to outlive it. But I remembered you were still out there. I just had to find you and we could start over together.”

“I thought Snoke said that was an order…” Kylo said, looking confused again.

“Oh, it was, but I’d’ve done it anyway,” Hux explained. “The order was simply convenient. If I had Snoke’s blessing, then there would be no questions about why I had left my post. About why I had dropped everything and run to find you. You know he didn’t approve of us beyond being co-commanders.”

Kylo nodded, absorbing what Hux was saying. “But then, this past year…?”

Hux nodded in return. “Oh, you hurt me. Deeply. I tried to get over you—as you seemed to have cast me aside—but I couldn’t do it. I was weak. I’d always believed that I wasn’t weak, I was simply patient, but my patience got me nowhere with you. I was too weak to hold onto what I had taken for myself, and you didn’t want to share, so what was there for me? So I did what I was capable of. I let the resistance believe that, in my weakness, I had turned traitor. I was going to use their trust to bring them to you, as a sort of parting gift. If I wasn’t good enough, then at least I could give you them. And I almost died for it, but you found me. And then you were _kind_ to me. I had only ever learned to associate kindness with weakness and failure, so I thought that was what you believed. That you were toying with me. I didn’t know what your endgame was, so all I had left to me was patience and the acceptance of my fate unless I could figure a way out before you killed me. I hated you, but even through everything, I still loved you. And I hated that because it meant I truly was weak.”

Folding his hands on the table in front of him, Hux bowed his head again. He had said his piece and that was all he could do.

“You’re not weak. You have survived— _thrived_ —through some of the worst things I have heard. Or… that I’d done to you. I can’t take it back. I can’t undo this last year, I can’t undo what I did to you,” Kylo said slowly, reaching out to place one hand on top of Hux’s. “And if, once we get to a real spaceport and get some credits, if you decide you want to leave and find your own way without me, I won’t stop you.”

Hux raised his head and looked up at Kylo. Once again, Kylo seemed like he wasn’t lying. It looked like it pained him to say that; that he wouldn’t pursue if Hux decided to run.

“But,” Kylo said, taking a deep breath, “if you decide you can trust me to try again, trust me not to hurt you again, you’re more than welcome to stay. I don’t know if I can offer you the trust that you need, but, Force willing, I will do my best. I don’t want the world…”

“…I just want your half,” Hux found himself finishing Kylo’s sentence. “Let’s start over. But maybe this time, we’ll get the world together.”

**Author's Note:**

> If this ‘verse becomes A Thing (there is always the possibility, even if I don’t have any plants ATM), I’m imagining that when Rey healed Kylo after she stabbed him, she also accidentally put a bit of the Light back into him and now he’s Conflicted™ (but also that we are Ignoring the ending of TRoS). He’s got to figure out what to do with the Light and the Dark within him, and he’s trying to make up for the way he treated Hux in the past. Hux had sort of managed to accept that he just has Poor Taste in Men and that Ren Will Be Ren. And now Kylo’s being… considerate? He’s confused, but not completely unwilling to see where this is going. And they’re both trying to figure out what to do with their lives now that everything they’d worked for is gone and also people think they’re dead.  
> The “I don’t want the world, I just want your half” is a line from the They Might Be Giants song “Ana Ng” and I have been trying to work that into a fic for a long time because I love the sentiment, but I hadn’t had a ship it fit right… until now. Ideally, they both do want the world (the galaxy), but will be content with whatever they can get together.


End file.
